Next morning he left Underhayes, without seeing anything more either of the lovers, or the little group which surrounded them; but not without another amusing reminder of the responsibilities he had incurred by interfering. He had no object in going to London by that expeditious morning train which carried off all the business men. He watched them once more, streaming along, neat and cheerful, with cherished rosebuds in their button-holes--rosebuds beyond the reach of the rest of the world; and when the place was clear and the express gone, started leisurely for a less crowded train. It did not occur to him to notice a quick decisive step coming up behind him, as he went to the station. It was not Arthur’s springy rapid step, which might have roused him; but one heavier and more decided. Durant however was much startled by finding himself struck lightly but sharply upon the shoulder, as the owner of this footstep came up to him. “Mr. Durant,” said Mr. Eagles, “why is not Curtis with you? I told you that I expected you to take away your man. Why do you let him slip through your fingers? I can’t have him here.” “I told you, Mr. Eagles, that I had no authority over Curtis.” “No one has any authority; there is no such thing nowadays: call it influence if you like, I don’t mind names--but take him away. He is doing no good with me. Never did after the first week. Dilettante fellow, fond of classical reading; that’s not the sort of thing I care for, Mr. Durant. When a man comes to me he comes to work, whether he likes it or not. I am not half sure that I don’t prefer them when they dislike it, triumph of principle then. Curtis is worse than doing no good, as I told you, he is doing himself harm. What do you mean to do about this business? Is he to be allowed to make a fool of himself and destroy all his prospects?” “I must repeat that I have no authority over Arthur Curtis,” said Durant, “I am only his friend and school-fellow. You know how little a man will allow his friend to interfere in such a matter.” “On the contrary, I know they are the only people who can interfere. Parents might as well--whistle. I scarcely wonder at that: if one may say so broadly of so large a class, there is not a greater nuisance than parents; and in this sort of business they’re hopeless. But a man like himself, knowing all the consequences--why, no one could speak with so much authority.” “What would you advise me to say to him?” said Durant, with a kind of half hope that this sharp and energetic intelligence might strike out some new suggestion, tempered by an inclination to laugh and flout at any solution he might offer of the difficulty. “For myself I am at my wits’ end.” “Say to him!” said the little pedagogue with a snort and puff of fiery resolution. “I’d take him away, I should not waste words. I’d have him out of the place before the day was over. There’s nothing like isolation in any bad disease.”